The Tiny Luna (mpreg)

Author's Note 9/6/21

Hi guys! This is a special notice to all my fans and HOLY CRAP, this is really exciting because we are so close to having over 10K VIEWS! I love you all so much that have been reading with me so far and I love your responses and how you all are already so invested in this book of mine and as a special treat to all my lovely bunnies, I will not only post the next chapter today and maybe a second if I can squeeze it in but here is a small one-shot mini story that I've been mulling around with. If it gets a good response, I might try to turn it into another one of my books. Again, thank you all so much and I love all my crazy rabid readers!

This book will be different because I usually prefer to write in third-person perspective but I've decided to make this first-person to see how it goes so let me know what you think. If you're not really interested, feel free to skip this chapter and read on. This would be considered alien-impregnantion-mpreg- abduction-bxb-kinky   Don't like, don't read

Tricked By The
Lady In Red
(Rough Draft)
Cracking open an eye, I let out a low groan and pull my flat plain white, or mostly white since there was a large brown stain on the pillow from some spilt coffee which is why I had probably found it in the dump three years ago, over my face trying to hide from the sunlight peeking through my window. It wasn't really a window, bugs flying in freely and I could even hear the local trash dump racoon, George I called him, scavenging through the trash heaps probably looking for food who sometimes came to room with me during the winter when it was particularly cold and especially if it was raining and he hadn't found any other shelter. Sadly, I knew I couldn't just lay here all day to starve so I sat up with another groan, my pillow falling to the side of my makeshift cot made from a slightly ripped hammock that I had put some patches on over the holes, and I stood up in my "house" if you could call four metal sheets and a bright blue tarp as housing.

"Time to start the day," I said to myself, stretching my arms over my head and I could feel my back popping before I slumped over to grab my shirt. "Think I'll get some change today?" I asked as I spied George through my window when I let out a laugh as I saw he had gotten his snout stuck in a Pringles tube and was shaking his head from side to side in an attempt to shake it off. "Hold on! I'm coming!" I called, laughing to myself as I pulled on my beat up army boots I had found in a dumpster by sheer luck, and hurried out through the large hole in the side of one of the metal sheets and carefully made my way through the garbage heaps toward the dark fury creature who was chittering to himself and trying to use his paws to push the green tube away but his little hands just slipped. "Alright, mister. Hold still," I said, trying to keep a straight face as I reached over and smoothed my hand over his fur trying to calm George before I took a hold of the tube and gently tugged. With a few more tugs, and even using a discarded mechanical pencil to rip into the side of the tube to prey it apart some to widen it, George flew back and rolled down the trash pile with a free maw which he used to smack his lips and growl at the green tube when I tossed it aside and I attempted to school my features but my body shook with the contained laughter and I could have sworn George glared at me. "I'm sorry but that was just funny. You can laugh the next time I get stuck in a tire or something," I told him as I slid down the trash pile and scratched behind his ear which George seemed to like as he leaned into my touch before racing off to scavenge.

I pulled on my long black overcoat, a coat that seemed expensive but had holes here and there along with a large red stain over my right breast which I hoped was just ketchup and tried not to think about too much, before making my way to the chain link fence. Behind it was the large city of New York, year thirty-twenty seven and to say this was the city of bright lights was not an exaggeration. There were flying vehicles everywhere, even more billboards, the skyscrapers were even taller and more vibrant, and you could see the boardwalk system forty stories above with the high classed rich people walking around and shopping. The ground, where the roots of the city lay, were a mixture of middle class and those of us who are, to coin a phrase, dirt poor. Literally, in my case, since I live in the local dump and get my effects from trash piles like my army boots, ripped jeans that had a slit of a hole from mid-thigh to my ankle with a thin strip of cloth holding it close most of the time at the knee, my too long white shirt that was dirt stained, and possibly blood stained coat. I once had a hat, a blue baseball cap, to add to my on-sambal to shade my eyes from the vibrant upper city that was almost as bright as the sun itself.